


Six of Swords

by PostcardsfromTheoryland



Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [20]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Child Abuse, Foster Kid Keith (Voltron), M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostcardsfromTheoryland/pseuds/PostcardsfromTheoryland
Summary: The Six of Swords: Relief, calm after a storm, escape, accepting helpShiro and Adam take Keith out of a bad situation.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686346
Comments: 20
Kudos: 166





	Six of Swords

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, folks!
> 
> Also my Bad Things Happen Bingo square for Gaslighting

When Keith had slinked back to the house after his stint in juvie, he should have known things were too quiet. He’d _seen_ the police call his foster family, he’d just stolen a car belonging to a _military officer_ , but when he got back things were...fine? Maybe they didn’t care, because Shirogane hadn’t pressed charges?

But then his foster father got home. And, despite Keith’s assertions that Shirogane was fine with it, they actually had a meeting tomorrow morning, Darren had been...angry.

When Keith woke up (on the floor, since his foster mother had locked him in the cellar for the night), every part of him ached. Nothing visible, of course not, Darren was smart like that, but Keith was sure there were bruises from his foster father’s boots on his chest and stomach, along with the lashes from the belt on his back and shoulders. Keith hadn’t been looking forward to walking all the way to the Garrison, so when Darren had offered to drive him there, Keith had been...suspicious, but clearly not suspicious enough.

It had started fine, Keith resting his head against the window, but then Darren had veered off the course and into the desert.

“Shortcut,” he’d said gruffly, and Keith should have just bolted right then and there. Because about ten minutes later, Darren was pulling them to a stop, in the middle of nowhere. He got out and walked around the truck, yanking Keith out with a tight hand on Keith’s upper arm, right on top of the bruise Keith knew was already blooming from last night.

“What is…?” Keith tried, only for Darren to sneer at him and shove him to the ground.

“I’m saving you from yourself,” he explained. “You really think this pilot wants anything to do with you? You really think you’d fit in at a military school? Those teachers would chew you up and spit you out. That lieutenant that was so interested in you earlier would just see what kind of problem you were and you’d get expelled, and you’d probably drag my name through the mud in the process.

“This is for your own good,” Darren called out as he got back into the truck. “Think about what you’ve done to deserve this, and I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up, and we can forget this ever happened.”

And then Keith was alone in the middle of the desert. No map, no water, no food, no shade, no supplies.

He’d been putting up with Darren’s abuse, and his foster brother’s insults, and his foster mother’s tendency to send him to his room without supper for the smallest infraction, because it was honestly better than the alternative of going back to the group home.

But this was...this was a new level. He was supposed to just _sit here_? In the _desert_? For an entire day?

Would Darren even _know_ where exactly he’d dumped Keith, on the off-chance he decided to make good on his word and come back tomorrow?

Fuck this.

Keith started walking.

There was a chance that hadn’t been the right decision. He’d walked for hours, skin burning under the cloudless sky, dehydrated and hungry. He’d taken a few breaks here and there, but without any water or shade it was almost pointless. Keith had thought, for a moment, about trying to make it to the Galaxy Garrison and explain to Shirogane what had happened but then, explain..what? That even the people paid by the government to take care of him thought he was worthless? And besides, he had no idea how to even get to the Garrison from here. He’d be better off aiming for his dad’s old property.

He had been sure, when he’d started out, that he knew where the old shack was.

But now it was dark, and cold, and everything just hurt more after walking for hours, and he was desperately thirsty, and dizzy, and shaky, and probably going the wrong direction. He was debating whether it would be better to keep going while he could still walk, possibly going the wrong direction and running into something like a rattlesnake in the process, or if he should stop for the night and hope he had the energy to continue in the morning, when the decision was made for him.

A hoverbike came careening around the bend in the canyon he’d been walking through, swerving to a stop barely inches away from him.

“Oh my god,” the driver gasped as he got off, “I’m so…. _Keith_?!”

* * *

When Shiro had decided to take a late night ride through the desert, he’d expected to help clear his mind with a few canyon dives. He was definitely _not_ expecting to run into the very thing he’d been trying to puzzle through.

Although, actually...he could have sworn he swerved in time, but the way Keith was hunched over, in pain, oh fuck…

“Shit, Jesus, did I hit you?”

“No!” Keith yelled, eyes wide, probably still coming down from the shock. “No that happened...earlier…”

And what the hell was that supposed to mean? Someone _else_ had hit him?

Keith wobbled a bit where he stood, and Shiro just barely caught him in time before his legs gave out, trying to ignore the flinch that ran through Keith at that.

“Ok, bud, into the light, c’mere.” He tried to keep his touch as gentle as he could as he led Keith to sit down in the beam of the hoverbike’s headlights. It was bright, and he winced in sympathy as Keith turned his face away from the light, but Shiro needed to see what they were dealing with. The skin on the back of Keith’s hand took way too long to snap back after Shiro pinched it, and he was incredibly grateful for the two canteens of water Adam insisted he take with him. He handed one off to Keith now, with a warning to take it slow, and Keith did, apparently familiar enough with desert survival as he took little sips. However, raising the canteen to his lips made the sleeve of his shirt shift a bit, and Shiro saw red when he realized what the bruising pattern was. Keith hadn’t been the victim of a hit and run out in the desert, no, that would be too kind. Whatever this was, it had been done deliberately, and by someone much bigger than Keith: the person who left that handprint was at least Shiro’s size, if not larger.

“Who did this to you?” Shiro growled.

Keith didn’t seem to want to answer that one, hunching in on himself, and Shiro took some time to reign in his thoughts. Clearly _someone_ had hurt Keith, but a mostly-stranger who was bigger and stronger than Keith getting angry and in his face was not going to help.

“How long have you been out here?” he asked instead, because that seemed like a safer question.

“This morning,” Keith murmured. “I tried to get to our meeting, I wanted to go, it just…” and then to Shiro’s horror Keith started crying; someone had reduced that take-no-shit spitfire from yesterday to this, and Shiro was damn well going to figure out who, but first...

“Ok, I am very much a supporter of embracing your emotions and crying when you need to cry, but you’re also really dehydrated so maybe later, alright?”

Keith choked out a laugh at that, at least, and brought the canteen up again for another drink. Shiro slipped out of his riding jacket, too, and draped that over Keith’s shoulders when he noticed the kid trembling. Whether it was cold or shock or a combination of the two, better to get him warm.

“I want to help,” Shiro tried, “but I don’t know where to start. What do you need?”

Keith looked up at that, giving him a sharp stare with more scrutiny than a preteen should be able to manage, before slumping where he sat, like a puppet with his strings cut.

“It was my foster father,” he finally whispered.

Shiro had known, in a general sort of sense, that Keith’s homelife probably hadn’t been great, but to get the confirmation that someone who was supposed to be taking care of him had decided instead to use him as a punching bag made him want to go find that bastard and give him a fist to the face.

“When did he hurt you, this morning?”

Keith shook his head. “Last night. He was angry about the, the thing with the car.”

“How did you get out here, then?”

“He- God, I was such a fucking idiot,” Keith cut himself off. “He offered to give me a ride to the Garrison for our meeting, and I took him up on it, but then he just…” Keith gave a vague wave of his hand, but Shiro thought he understood.

“He left you.”

“Said he’d be back tomorrow morning, but…”

And yeah, Shiro wouldn’t believe him, either.

“Is this the first time, or…” And God, Shiro did _not_ like the sarcastic laugh that Keith barked out at that. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he whispered.

“My social worker, she’s fine, but the Bureau, they...I’ve been through a lot of fosters. They said if this family doesn’t work out, then it’s back to the group home, and I can’t, not again. It’s awful, there’s no privacy, it’s so loud, and dirty, and there’s never enough food or clothing to go around, and the older kids just beat you up anyway, so what’s the difference, really?”

Shiro had never been in Keith’s position, not even close. But he thought he got it, maybe. If things were even _slightly_ better with this shitty foster family, why bother going through the trouble?

The thing was, though, that Shiro was _definitely_ going to bother going through the trouble. And he had a few people that could probably help him out.

“Keith,” he began hesitantly, “do you trust me?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Don’t know you very well yet.”

“Do you trust me more than your current foster family?”

“God, yeah.”

And that was all Shiro needed.

He sent off a few quick messages: one to Matt, asking him to break into the HHS server and get Keith’s records. One to Dr. Jessup, informing her he was about to bring in a patient and could she please make sure she was ready for him? And one to Adam, telling him his negotiation skills were about to be necessary.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The ride back to the Garrison had been slow, as gentle as Shiro could make it, but he still felt Keith flinching behind him at the tiniest bumps and turns. Adam had met them on the way to the infirmary and Shiro did a quick introduction; then in through the doors where Dr. Jessup was indeed waiting, camera at the ready to document Keith’s injuries.

And Jesus Christ. Shiro had known they weren’t going to be pretty, but _God_. Boot marks on his chest, belt marks on his back, and older, paler scars underneath everything. The doctor had expertly bandaged everything, antibiotic cream on the lashes and some ice packs for the bruising on his front. But then, of course, there hadn’t been a pain-free way for Keith to lie in bed and wait for the saline drip that Dr. Jessup had hooked up to run its course; he finally settled gingerly onto his back, propped up with several pillows, face pale and drawn.

Shiro wished he could avoid this part, but Dr. Jessup was a mandatory reporter, and she was required to call Keith’s social worker with what she had discovered.

It wasn’t even an hour later, Keith just starting to drop into a doze, when they had more visitors. Apparently accusing someone technically under your control of child abuse was a big deal, because two women came into the infirmary with the Garrison escort. One he recognized as Keith’s social worker from the files, but the other one was a new face.

“Thanks for finding that delinquent,” she opened with, and it took Shiro a moment to realize she was referring to Keith. “I’m Julia Denton, with the Bureau. We’ll take him off your hands now.” Shiro was relieved to see that Keith’s actual social worker, Violet, shot him a concerned look, but she was clearly being overstepped here. Luckily, Adam took that opportunity to plant himself firmly in between Keith’s bed and Ms. Denton.

Time to watch the master at work.

“Keith has informed us that that someone within your bureau gave him an ultimatum: back to the group home if this current foster family didn’t work out, is that correct?” he said.

“Yes,” Denton sighed, “he’s been through too many families as it is, and there’s no one left who wants to deal with him.” Shiro spared a glance at Keith, who seemed to be trying to shrink into pillows at that, and decided he very much hated this woman.

“So what you’re telling me is that you threatened a minor under your care, to the point where he endured physical abuse for at least several months, according to the expert opinion of the Galaxy Garrison’s most experienced doctor?” Adam asked, just as pleasant as before, but there was a hint of steel creeping through, and Shiro was definitely looking forward to this.

“Well,” she faltered. “Maybe he shouldn’t have broken the law, then, if he didn’t want to get punished for it.” And Adam shot him the quickest, tiniest smirk at that, knowing that between them there were at least three devices recording the whole conversation.

“Right,” Adam said blandly. “Of course, given the circumstances, it would be best if Keith were to be placed with a new family as opposed to the group home, so he can get closer supervision while the injuries he sustained at the hands of one your foster families are healing.”

“There aren’t any spare families available,” she said triumphantly.

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Adam explained. “Lieutenant Shirogane and I would be more than happy to take him in.”

Shiro chanced a look at Keith, who was gaping at the proceedings, mouth open, eyes wide. Shiro held out his palm in invitation, surprised and pleased when Keith grabbed it in a deathgrip.

“You aren’t registered as potential foster parents,” Denton hissed.

“No, but certainly we could house Keith as the paperwork goes through. Who better than two trusted, esteemed officers of the Galaxy Garrison? I can call in any number of references if you’d like.”

“There are rules about that,” Denton ground out, but Adam just smiled blankly back at her.

“Ah yes,” he replied. “I understand there are incredibly stringent guidelines and regulations that I am sure you uphold to the highest degree, considering you hadn’t even checked that Darren Montgomery is barred from taking in foster children in both Texas _and_ Oklahoma?” 

Denton’s face went pale and slack at that and Shiro heard Keith give a little gasp next to him. “That was...an oversight.” 

“I’m sure,” Adam simpered. “Regardless, I’m positive you don’t want Commander Jessup here to file a report and press charges, do you? A case in military court probably wouldn’t look great for your career.”

“You wouldn’t even want him,” Denton shot back. “You know how many foster families he’s been through already? Every single one of them gave him back, and you will, too, and then it will just be more paperwork for us.”

“Maybe we’d like to be the judge of that,” Adam said, all bared teeth and threatening smile.

“Fine,” she snarled. “Take the brat. You’ll just give him back in a few weeks. Violet, give them some paperwork.” Violet scurried up and handed a bundle of documents to Adam, mouthing a big “thank you” as she did so.

Once everything was signed and squared away, Shiro finally felt like he could breathe again. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” he said as Denton finally stalked out the door.

“You’re subbing Matt’s class next week as payment for making him hack a government database,” was Adam’s answer, though he did look pretty pleased with himself.

“I definitely didn’t hear that,” Dr. Jessup said dryly. “Also, you realize I couldn’t have pressed charges, even if I’d wanted to, right? And that I’m not actually a commander?”

“Oh yeah, _I_ know that,” Adam winked at her.

“You two are a menace,” she said fondly. “God help the Garrison, you’re going to turn this poor child into a little troublemaker.”

And yeah, speaking of…

Shiro glanced back at Keith, who was still holding onto Shiro’s hand like it was a lifeline; he’d let go only for the time it took him to sign his name on a few of the papers.

“I’m going to get the guest room ready,” Adam murmured. “You alright here?”

Shiro nodded. “Thank you. I definitely couldn’t have done that without you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Adam said, ruffling Keith’s hair as he left. “I’ll see you both when you get home.”

“So,” Shiro started. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m, ok, I guess.”

“I know that was sort of a big change. Are you alright with everything?”

“Do you really want me? You and Adam?” he asked instead, voice wobbling just a bit.

“Of course we do. We wouldn’t have done this if we didn’t.”

“But Ms. Denton is right, none of the other families…”

“Keith, the person that I’ve gotten to know in the past 24 hours or so is someone that I like a lot. Someone I think has a lot of potential, someone who’s strong and smart and just needs some room to grow. Are you going to mess up? Sure, but so are Adam and I, and we’ll work through it together, ok?” Shiro wasn’t sure if Keith was convinced by that, but he nodded, at least. “How much longer, ma’am?” Shiro called over his shoulder. The sooner they got Keith home and situated, the better, he thought.

Dr. Jessup came out of her office and checked everything over, then loaded a new syringe in through the IV. “I want to finish off this bag of saline, along with the painkiller I just added to help him sleep tonight, and then you’re free to take him home.” Shiro could see Keith’s brow already smoothing out as the painkiller did its work, the hand around his fingers going slack.

“Rest Keith,” Shiro murmured, brushing Keith’s hair out of his eyes. “We’ll be home soon.”


End file.
